Disclaimer: I don't own The Rocky Horror Picture Show. Or any of the other films/books/TV shows referenced in this.

A/N: This fanfiction follows the movie's plot pretty well until the Time Warp.

"Hello…" said the stranger.

He looked just like the stereotypical Igor. You know, the mysterious old hunchback who serves a mad scientist. Like that guy from the 1931 film Frankenstein who helped the title character acquire a brain for the creature (played by the wonderful actor Boris Karloff).My knowledge of 1930s Universal Studios monster films seemed to apply in real life for once!

"Hi! My name is, er, Brad Majors… this is my fiancée Janet Weiss… and her niece Fay Gallagher… our car got a flat tire down the road from here. Do you have a phone we can borrow?"

The stranger stared at us for a while. "You're wet…"

"It's, er, raining," Aunt Janet replied nervously.

"I think you better… come inside…"

"Thanks," said my aunt, politely faking a smile.

I was actually thankful, but didn't say anything. The elegant architecture of the room we entered distracted me too much. Probably because of the spider webs and dust that covered nearly every surface, I thought fondly of the gothic novels I sometimes read.

And so I followed the odd butler into the foyer. I do wish that I could say I did so bravely. Unfortunately, I try not to lie unnecessarily. Cowering behind my Aunt hardly counted as courageous.

Not that I really cared.

Why did it matter if I looked frightened to a bizarre butler? It's not like supposed to be the brave. In films like Dracula, the young lady gets rescued. Though I wasn't sure if I was up to screaming like that famous 1930s actress who I share a first name with. My throat might hurt after that.

I wasn't paying attention to the awkward conversation going on between Aunt Janet and the 'Igor'… until a voice shouted: "He's lucky… You're lucky…. I'm lucky… we're all lucky! Hahahaaa!"

There, on the staircase, stood a woman with frizzy red hair and dramatic makeup. Judging by her slight accent, I realized that she probably hailed from the British Isles. She looked so beautiful in that odd maid's uniform she wore. I couldn't help but stare as she and the butler/Igor broke out into a strange song-and-dance sequence.

Somehow we ended up in this room full of people dancing and singing. I wasn't sure what to do… so I stood by the door and stared at the madness before me. Being rather petite I managed to crawl into a little hiding spot in the wall. The plaster had chipped and the insulation could be seen. My somber grey dress blended into the shadows quite well.

Yet I kept staring at the woman out of the corner of my eye...

I didn't know why. Something about her enchanted me. She looked rather (dare I say it?) sexy in that dress she wore. The dark eye makeup and pale foundation reminded me of what actresses wore in pre-Technicolor films. They needed to stand out in the harsh, shadowy lighting.

When that wild song ended I shrunk back even further into my little hiding place. I'd always been good at finding places to hide.

It kept me safe from the cruel world that hardly approved of anything. Everywhere I went I found places to hide. Often I read a book there. But now I just watched a strange scene unfold in front of me.

A man in a woman's burlesque costume was singing a song to my aunt and her fiancé. His accent sounded very British.

One of the other 'non-mainstream' students (there are about five of us) at my school had strange obsession with a British Broadcasting Company television show called Monty Python's Flying Circus. He never stopped talking about it. I found it only moderately amusing, but he found it downright hilarious.

An interesting fact I learned from his many lectures about it was that the nothing is funnier to an average Brit than a man in drag. So, at that point, I naturally assumed that these odd people were a group of British people exiled for having an overly intense sense of humor.

Soon enough Aunt Janet, Brad, and the British man in drag disappeared. The Igor went with them… but the redheaded maid didn't.

After the others were out of earshot, the woman walked over to my hiding place and began to scold me. "What are you doing, girl? Hiding there only made that tear in the plaster worse! Riffraff and I will pay for this, foolish child!"

"Who?"

"Riffraff. The butler."

"Oh… You mean the man I've been mentally referring to as 'Igor'!"

She rolled her eyes and laughed. "Seriously? Igor? It's after the character type, I'm sure. You're a funny one, child. What's your name?"

"Fay. Um, Fay Gallagher," I explained.

For reasons unknown to me at that point, her green eyes widened. "Your name is... Fay?"

"Yeah… What's so important about it?" I asked.

"Well... um... it's just like the name of an actress the Master likes. Her name is Fay Wray," she replied nervously.

"Who's 'the Master'?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

The woman chuckled darkly. "That man you saw earlier. The one in the corset, fishnets, and heavy makeup."

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A/N: I made the character able to blend in really well because in many 19th gothic novels (which this parodies slightly) characters have supernatural-seeming talents in those stories.